The Deserted Path From Hell
by PromisedRainbow
Summary: While following a trafficking ring, Daredevil is confronted with his own demons of self-doubt and casualties. AKA 5 times Matt Murdock felt he was alone in hell, and one time he wasn't.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N): One of my goals this summer was to draw more, but, though that was a mild success, I have felt a bit unaccomplished, so I decided to dive into an idea I have had in my mind since I wrote my last Daredevil fanfic. It's been a while since I've watched the show, but I wanted to give this story a try. Hope you enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing from the show Daredevil.**

Matt hadn't known how much he missed the smell of stale coffee until he stepped into the office. It seeped into the stained walls and the wood of the desks, its scent comfortingly overwhelming, and over that he could smell a sweet aura of lavender perfume and apple shampoo. He could smell her new lipgloss, one she hadn't worn before, and the fresh coat of paint on her nails. She smelled of sweet familiarity and comfort.

And worry. Karen stank of worry.

"Are you sure you're okay to work? It's only been a week since… since your accident." Karen hesitated. Her heart skipped a beat, and, in his office, another heart started to race.

Matt widened his smile. "There is nothing to worry about, Karen. How about you get me caught up on the case."

A sharp, silent inhale escaped Karen's lips. The wood creaked as Karen tightened her grip on the desk she was leaning on. "You were in an accident, Matt. How many times are you going to come to the office all bloodied up?" Matt's smile tugged down. Karen sighed. "Anyways, it scares the customers away, seeing a blind lawyer with bruised knuckles," she said, trying to make a joke out of it.

Matt pursed his lips, and he put his hand over the bruised one.

"Heeeey, Matt, buddy!" Foggy said, walking in from his office. "You mind if we step out for a bit? I need to ask you something." Matt gave Karen a smile, and he took Foggy's arm as they exited the building.

Stopping at the entrance of their building, Foggy straightened his supporting elbow and faced Matt. He opened his mouth before Matt held a hand between them, tilting his head down and to the side. A few seconds passed when he dropped his hand and sighed. "Karen's on the phone. Talk."

A siren flew by them, screaming down the street, but Matt could still hear his friend's fury. "You are an idiot!" Foggy seethed, pointing at Matt accusingly.

"I believe you wanted to ask me something?"

"Fine, let me rephrase that: Are you an idiot?! Karen knows. She already suspects something's up, and it's only a matter of time before she puts together the odd hours, the injuries, _everything_."

 _Be careful what you say_ , Matt heard his voice say in his head. "Look, I'm just trying to prote-"

"What bull. You know that, and I know that," Foggy said. "This isn't just about protection. This is about your sick, twisted mission to save the city with your own sick, twisted morals. This is about your need to hide from people and their love because of your self-pity or some crap, and this whole 'protect your family' thing isn't doing anything. Your 'accident' was how I found out about your other side. Do you know how disturbing that is?"

"I'm-..." A group of students passed by and Matt paused, awkwardly rocking on his heels until they were gone. "I'm sorry Foggy, I-"

Matt was cut off by a crazed laugh. "Oh… oh wow," Foggy managed to say during his fit. "Sorry? _Sorry_? Dude, we are way past sorry. I found out that my blind roommate turned out to be a delusional madman who beats up people in black PJ's. You may have all those wonderful stories of the people you rescued, but what about me? I helped you through college! I was the one there for you, and you suddenly tell me that you're not really blind? Karen and I are your only friends. If you want to have at least one left, I suggest you do something."

"Like what?" Matt whispered between his teeth. "Confess to Karen? Stop trying to save the city?"

"I'm just saying, man. You can go on and screw around with your life all you want. You already screwed up with me. Just don't hurt Karen, too, 'cause if you do, I won't be there to have your back. You'd be alone in this hell hole because you didn't even have the audacity to tell the truth, and you've hurt your closest friends along the way."

And Foggy left, slamming the door behind him, leaving Matt on the sidewalk, and the city suddenly seemed so quiet.

 **(A/N): A quick little snippet between Foggy and Matt. Criticism is welcome.**


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N): Quick little update before I go on break. Hope you guys enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Daredevil.**

Matt collapsed in his bed, tie half off and shoes still on. His clothes reeked of Chinese takeout, and his mind was flooded with files, paperwork, and evidence from the case. But now, everything drained away as he felt himself sink into his silk sheets, melting into an oblivion of darkness and warmth.

No noise filled the apartment. All he could hear were the muffled giggles of his neighbors, the yapping bark of a dog, and the occasional honk of a car passing by.

That noise was the noise of the city. His city. And it was peaceful, and still.

…..

But in his dream filled mind, Matt had heard a small cry of a child. His eyes cracked open as he slowly returned to reality, but he could sense nothing. _I must have been dreaming_ , he thought.

 _Yeah, a dream, buddy,_ he heard Foggy say in his thoughts. _Go back to sleep so you can focus on the case tomorrow… well, technically today, since it's one in the morning._

Matt's eyelids began to droop, his brain returning to sleep once more, and right before his dream returned, he heard the cry again. He shot up, escaping the warmth of his bed, flinging on his suit before escaping into the night.

 _Really? Come on, Matt, remember? The case? Does that mean nothing to you anymore?_

Matt slid out of the window and climbed up the ladder onto the rooftop, standing at the edge before scanning the streets and buildings, concentrating on that one sound.

 _Of course not, because all you wanna do is whip up some bad guys in your silly suit. What's your excuse gonna be tomorrow, huh? You had an existential crisis so you stayed up all night and can't focus? A new season of Game of Thrones came out and you decided to get a TV to watch it?_

A dog barking. A siren screaming. A baby crying. A girl crying…

That's the one.

He bounded across the rooftops, rolling to his feet and sprinting to the voice. The cold air drove away his drowsiness and he flew in the sky, the only thing on his mind was the cry for help.

"What do you think you're doin', sweet face?" Matt crouched at the edge of a factory roof, hearing the racing heartbeats and shouting from inside, and the man's voice in the alley. There were two heartbeats outside, one of them smaller, faster, younger. Her breath was shallow and panicked.

"You think you're so clever, eh? Sneakin' off like that? You know the rules. Come on, let's go back." He took her hand and walked down the alley and back toward the factory entrance. The little girl pulled against him, tugging and squirming. A split second later, Matt heard a small crunch and the man's scream. "Christ, she bit me! You bit me!" He cursed under his breath before turning back to the girl. "You little-"

Matt slid down a ladder, landing quietly on the ground before rounding the corner, hearing the man shout, "You're comin' with me, sweet face! Oh, boss ain't gonna be happy with ye." The little girl screamed one last time. Matt could hear nails clawing against skin, he could smell the salt from her tears.

They came around the bend. Matt hid at the corner. Then struck.

His fist connected with the man's jaw. The man stumbled, putting a hand on his bleeding nose. Matt took the girl behind him, and she ran, still crying as she stumbled back down the alley. Matt called after the girl, "Wait, don't-" before the man took out a pocket knife and swung at him, slicing Matt's cheek. Matt caught the arm and twisted the blade out of his hand. Pushing him to the wall, Matt took the man's skull and slammed it against the brick. The man fell limply on the ground, blood streaming from the back of his head.

Matt took the man's body and hauled him into a dumpster to delay anyone from discovering him. _I have twenty minutes tops before he wakes up, ten before the rest find him,_ Matt thought. He jogged quietly back down the alley to where he heard a faint shuffle. Small sniffles echoed in the empty alley. Matt walked silently around another bend to hear the girl huddled at a dead end, wiping her tears with her grimy hands. She looked up to see his tall silhouette looming over her. As he crouched down to meet her at eye level, Matt heard the girl start to cry once more. "No no no no…" she whispered raspily as she crawled back further against the wall. "Please," she choked out, "please just leave me alone." Her voice cracked as her tears became more uncontrollable and she moaned in despair.

"It's okay, sweetie," Matt said as quietly as he could. "I'm not going to hurt you, alright? I'm here to help." But the girl didn't hear him. She could only stare at his horns and the blood on his cheeks.

"Come on, let's get you home." Matt held out his hand, but the girl got up on her own and dashed between Matt and the alley wall. He caught her with his arm, picking her up effortlessly onto his shoulder. As Matt tried to stand up, the girl banged on his back, begging him to put her down. "Do you know where you live? Do you have any parents?" he asked. But all that came out from the girl's lips were screams and begs.

He heard her tears slide down his suit and drop onto the ground. He could hear her voice rasp in despair.

And he could hear voices coming down the alley.

Matt held onto her tightly before starting to run to the only place he knew he could go. The girl bounced against his strides, her legs limply kicking against his chest as he sprinted through alleys and dodged trash cans. Matt tried to breathe evenly as his chest tightened. _Just five more blocks_ , he thought as he continued, his feet pattering against the pavement and puddles of water that littered the back streets.

When Matt finally stopped, the girl's screams became more distressed, and she kicked his stomach as she flailed against him. Matt knocked on the door, waiting for a second before it opened.

"Matthew?" The fragrance of coffee and aged wood flowed out of the door. Matt relaxed at the familiar scent.

"My apologies, Father, for disrupting," Matt said awkwardly. "May we come in?" Father Lantom eyed the blood and the horns before his eyes laid on the crying child Matt was carrying. He widened the door, moving to the side as Matt quickly entered.

"How did you know I'd be here?"

"I didn't. But whenever I needed you, Father, you always seem to be here," Matt said while putting the child on a couch in the corner. Father Lantom chuckled solemnly before taking the girl from Matt. He took a tissue and wiped away her tears and nose. Her cries started to quiet in the face of the gentle priest.

As Father Lantom soothed the child, Matt heard faint shouting. He tilted his head toward the door, staring blankly at the floor. "You, go down south, she couldn't've gotten that far," he heard.

Matt walked back to the couch where the child sat with a jacket slung around her shoulders. He crouched down, saying, "Father Lantom's going to take care of you, sweetheart. I'll make sure you're never going back there again, okay?" There was no response, just the racing heart of fear itself.

Sighing, he stood and pulled Father Lantom to another corner. "She may be from a trafficking ring. She escaped, and now people are trying to find her. I'll make sure that they never get here, but as soon as I'm done, I'll come back to help, I promise."

Father Lantom shook his head. "There's no need to overwhelm her, Matthew. I will help her get back home. Just get some rest tonight." Matt nodded gratefully before giving the girl a small smile and disappearing through the door.

As he walked down the church steps, he heard the girl whisper, "Is he coming back? Will the devil come back to get me?"

Matt heard Father Lantom's somber smile as he stroked her hair. "No, he's not coming back sweetie. You're safe now."

Her heart finally relaxed.

Matt gripped his fingers in a fist as he ran towards the voices. _You see,_ he heard Foggy say, _you're trying to protect them, but why are they still afraid of you?_ _You break the laws, you hurt people, and your mask has horns. You might as well be the devil itself, Matty_. _That little girl sure thought you were_.

"Shut up," Matt muttered under his breath as the rain started to drizzle down his mask. The girl's calm heartbeat began to fade into the background as the hoard of shouting men grew closer, their cigarette and beer-stained breath looming in the air. Matt shook out his arms, loosening them before hiding in a corner, his horns outlined by the moon's glow.

 _You might as well be the devil itself, Matty._

Matt didn't want that. He didn't want to be feared. He didn't want to just beat up people at night.

But then again, this night proved that that may just be the only thing he was good at.

 **(A/N): I hope this concept made sense. Criticism is always welcome.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Daredevil.**

"Come on, another round! On me!" Foggy said, his grin widening. The trio sat at the booth, sticking out in their cheap suits and shiny shoes in the rickety bar that reeked of smoke and beer.

Karen and Matt eyed each other. "You did do pretty well in court today, Foggy…" Karen began with a sly smile.

Foggy scoffed dramatically as a new round came in. "Like hell I did 'pretty well'. I rocked it, Karen. _Rocked_ it."

"Cheers to that." Matt raised his glass, and the three clanked their bottles together in a unified "Cheers!" They all took a swing of their drinks, and a large burp erupted from Foggy's mouth. Karen burst out laughing, her alcohol-induced giggle filling the musty bar.

As Foggy and Karen continued their drunken rants and conversations, Matt's ears drifted to the TV humming over the bar table.

" _Just a month ago, police found five men beaten unconscious, two of whom were in critical condition. All five survived, and the Devil of Hell's Kitchen is thought to be responsible for their unconscious state. The five men were suspects of a child trafficking ring, but just today they were ruled 'not guilty' due to a lack of necessary evidence. The factory where the alleged ring was located was found empty with no proof of unlawful activity…"_

A bottle slammed against the bar. "We had'em," a gruff voice slurred. As the man took another drink, Matt heard a woman huff out a sigh next to him, her fingers tapping impatiently on her glass. "We had'em. If we had another week we could've arrested all those SOBs."

"You said that 2 drinks ago," the woman said, taking a sip from her glass.

"It doesn't change the fact that if that devil didn't screw up our investigation, the whole ring would've gotten a trial."

Matt straightened slightly, tilting his head to the side.

"We knew there'd been at least a dozen kids being held there to be trafficked to hotel rooms. Where are they now, huh? That devil went in guns blazin' and ended up compromising the whole friggin' investigation 'cause he heard one girl cryin'." The man downed his drink, slamming it down again and motioning for more. When a new one came, he stopped to stare into the bottle as if it were the bottom of the river, and he was going to jump from the bridge. The man took a deep breath before putting his lips to the glass, grumbling into the bottle, "I guess the others weren't cryin' loud 'nough."

 _I guess the others weren't cryin' loud 'nough._

Matt flinched, the words reverberating an awkward twitch through his body.

"You okay, Matt?" Karen asked. Matt looked up from the table, his eyes meeting the two's red faces, their drunken smiles nearly devoid of worry. Nearly, that is.

"Yeah," he said with a plastered smile. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Matt let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Hand trembling, he took another drink. Beer dripped onto the bench.

Plop. Plop. Plop.

 _Focus on that,_ Matt thought. _Focus on that sound._

But the voice echoed through the musty room, bouncing off the walls and finding its way back to him as if it were the only voice in the bar. Having neither the strength nor willpower to block the words, Matt let his mind repeat them over.

 _I guess the others weren't cryin' loud 'nough._

Because it was true. That night a month ago, the only cry he listened to was from that girl he left with Father Lantom. After fighting the men looking for her, he ran to the factory.

It was empty.

It reeked of bleach, it's smell overwhelming him. Matt remembered his senses being blinded, his nose and throat burning as he stumbled out of the factory, leaning on the wall as he dry heaved on the grass.

For the next three hours, Matt scoured the city. He would sit on a roof, sensing something vaguely familiar before chasing it down, only to find himself lost in another alley, running in frustrating circles.

For the month after, he'd find himself on the rooftops once again. As he ventured out of Hell's Kitchen, Matt went out at night in his sweats and black mask, vanishing through the shadows, listening to conversations and police chatter. At some point he turned to street criminals, cornering them and demanding information.

The city took ahold of his absence, some speculating that the devil was injured at night and died bleeding out in an abandoned building. Others thought that the police finally caught him, making a quiet arrest without the public's knowledge. Even Foggy hinted the question, asking what Matt's plans were for the night.

There was joy and sadness in his vanishing. Although at this moment in the bar, there seemed to be more joy.

"Look Lance, I get why you're angry, no matter how much I want to disagree," said the woman sitting next to the man at the bar. "If you hate this devil guy so much, you should be glad he's been gone for so long."

The man, Lance, grunted in agreement, staring blankly at the wall. "Cheers to that," he muttered under his breath, taking another sip from his bottle. "And let's pray he never comes back."

Matt sat frozen at the booth, his fingers tightly gripping the bottle, staring at the table as the pair stood up and walked past him. He was tempted to run out and explain to Lance why he couldn't get to all of the children. He wanted to grab him by the shoulders and scream that he hasn't been able to sleep without getting nightmares, so he goes out for hours at a time searching for them only to come back to work empty-handed, drained, and helpless.

But of course, Matt couldn't, because he was vowed to a life of secrecy and invisibility. And a life of secrecy led to a life of lies, and a life of invisibility led to a life of misunderstandings.

And so Matt sat there like an idiot, glued to the bottle and his seat, staring at the wooden table as if his life depended on it. He was frozen there as if an invisible force was holding him down until Lance and the woman stepped out of the door. The force released him. Inhaling deeply, Matt slumped on the booth seat, the leather creaking under his weight.

"...Matt?... Matt!? Dude, are you okay?"  
Matt flinched at Foggy's voice, snapping his eyes up to see the two slightly sober friends staring at him. "Yeah yeah, just gotta... gotta, uhm, get some fresh air. Be right back."  
Walking to the exit, Matt could hear Karen staring worriedly at his back. "Is he alright?"  
Foggy took a sip from his bottle. "Yeah, he's fine," he retorted, knowing Matt could hear every word and every drip of lies spoken.

Standing outside the bar under the dim lighting, Matt leaned against the wall, inhaling the smoke and emission filled air. It would seem useless in a few hours, but he went through the conversation in his head, along with all of the lies and presumptions that were made. He felt something boil in his heart, something other than anger. Frustration perhaps. Frustration at himself for not finding the children and at everyone else for not understanding what they shouldn't be able to understand.

He breathed in deeply once more, smelling the city, hearing the cries and laughs fill the streets. Matt forced his heart to slow, for his breathing to deepen. He reminded himself that this was _his_ city, one that he had to protect and that it would be selfish to stop for any person's words.

A new passion invigorated him. Matt texted Foggy before slipping from the light into the shadows, running back to his apartment to put on his suit. He ran alone, knowing that he lived a life of secrecy and invisibility, lies and misunderstandings, for the sake of his city, and for the sake of the children.

But, in the long run, this ephemeral passion wouldn't last, and his thoughts alone wouldn't stop the worst from happening.

 **(A/N): Criticism is always welcome.**


	4. Chapter 4

**(A/N): I definitely ran out of ideas for this one. I knew what I wanted for my for the fifth and my last chapter, but this one was on the fly. It's still connected loosely to the last two chapters.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing from Daredevil.**

God, Matt felt terrible. Although, 'terrible' seemed like an oversimplification.

" _Man, you sound terrible Matt._ "

"Thanks, Foggy."

" _No, seriously dude, is there a frog stuck in your throat or something?"_

"I just need a sick day. I'll be back as soon as I can."

" _Fine, it's not like you take that many days off anyway._ "

"Foggy-"

" _Seriously, it's fine. I hope you're better soon. Karen'll check up on you at night."_

"Thanks, Foggy." Matt fumbled his fingers on the phone, disconnecting the call before throwing it on the nightstand. He cringed at the sound of the phone's case fall onto the floor, the sound slamming on the wooden ground before ringing through the bedroom as though thunder had clapped next to his ear. Groaning, Matt buried himself deeper in his blanket, covering his ears.

Matt inhaled deeply through his nose, only to find that both nostrils were blocked. He attempted to breathe again, reverberating a high-pitched squeal as air tried to squeeze in through his nose.

Head dizzy, Matt collapsed into his pillow, awkwardly breathing through his mouth like a fish trapped on land. His breath echoed through the quiet room, bouncing off walls and rippling like water through the air. He could hear sweat dripping onto his pillow and the crinkle of tissues as he rolled to his side. His mouth reeked of morning breath and the takeout he forgot to brush off last night before dropping dead on his bed.

 _I'm never eating those fish sandwiches again._

Stumbling to the bathroom, Matt hurriedly brushed his teeth before ripping off his sweaty button up and fumbling on a tank top and gym shorts. Throwing his old clothes on the ground, his head swirled, and the room danced around him. Walls started to fall in and he was beginning to see two dressers where there was only one. A slew of curses jumped from Matt's mouth.

 _I'm going to need to go to the confessional sooner than I thought._

Clutching the wall, Matt slowly made his way out of the stuffy bedroom to the kitchen. Cool air clung to his sweat-drenched skin, and a shiver ran down his spine. He felt tempted to run back into his warm wet bed.

 _Speaking of churchy stuff, Father Lantom would probably say, "You must deny your temptations and flee from the devil" or something. Seems like you're doing a pretty bad job already. Cause, you know… you're the devil. Haha, get it?_

Matt didn't find his mind's half-hearted attempt at humor amusing.

He reached for a glass from the cabinet and got some water, ignoring the fact that most of it missed the cup and fell straight to the ground. Chugging it thirstily, Matt got more water and went to the sofa, collapsing on it as the room started to sway once more. His eyelids closed, his ears barely picking up the " _Karen… Karen… Karen"_ from his phone before the darkness consumed him.

…

Consciousness slowly drifted to reality as Matt's eyes opened. It was darker outside, the sun beginning to set, and his limbs were sprawled on the couch with a heavy blanket covering him. Small clinks of metal and humming came from the kitchen, and his hearing, thankfully, was quieter.

"Karen?" _Man, he_ did _sound terrible._

"Matt! You're awake!" He could hear a smile dance on her face. "Welcome back Sleeping Beauty. I've made you some dinner."

Matt licked his lips. _Meatloaf's overcooked, broccoli has too much salt, and, I don't know how she managed this, those noodles will probably kill you._

He smiled. "Thanks, Karen."

"Of course. Now, your temperature was at 103, if it goes any higher than that I'm dragging you to the hospital. I turned down the air conditioning- don't give me that look- and I'll be checking up on you in the mornings and evenings."

"Karen, I-"

"Less talking, more eating." She brought the dish to the couch and put it in Matt's hands. "I'll get you some water." Matt poked the food cautiously with the fork.

A small ding came from the kitchen. Karen put down the water and picked up her phone, taking a minute to scroll through… through…

 _You can't read text on the screen, you idiot._

"What is it?" Matt asked, thankful for a reason to put the food down.

Karen kept scrolling for a moment. "It's nothing, just something about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Anyways, I have to go right now, I'm sure you need your rest-"

"Actually, I want to hear the news. About the Devil."

There was a pause. "It's really nothing, Matt…"

"Please."

Another pause. Karen sighed and searched her purse for her phone again, scrolling through the screen. "Just more info about him disappearing for almost two months. There are some rumors of him moving across neighborhoods and boroughs, asking questions about some ring, but nothing real yet. There are a bunch of quotes, too, about how some people are praying he'll come back, and some… you know."

"They hope he's rotting in hell?"

"Took the words right out of their mouths," she muttered. A silence rang between them as Matt stared at the couch and Karen ready to run through the door. "Look, I know how you feel about this guy, but it's not looking good. Him returning, I mean."

"Yeah, I got it. Thanks, Karen. For everything."

"I'm sorry, I really have to go."

"No problem. Thanks."

The door opened. "You already said that. Try to get more sleep, I'll be here in the morning."

The door closed, the slam echoing through the room. He clutched his ears again.

" _I guess the others weren't cryin' loud 'nough."_

" _And let's pray he never comes back."_

" _They hope he's rotting in hell?" "Took the words right out of their mouths."_

He sighed and flopped back on the couch covered in sweat, the cushions and wires creaking under his weight. The smell of his dinner overwhelmed the room. The words ripped through his brain, pounding on his skull in a rhythmic thunder.

 _God, I need to get out._ He needed to leave the stuffy room haunted by the noise and words.

Grabbing his hoodie and black mask, he stumbled out of his home, hoping that the devil would forget everything that was tormenting Matt.

 **(A/N): That was the most I've written in a day for a while. Was Matt's weird delusional thinking too OOC? Anyways, criticism is welcome as usual.**


	5. Chapter 5

**(A/N): Did I say that I actually had an idea for this chapter? Well, I lied apparently. Enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Daredevil.**

Matt slammed the man on the brick wall. "Where is the trafficker. Where is Lukas," he growled deeply.

"I-I don't know man, I swear!" he stuttered, holding out his hands in surrender. "Look, you got the wrong person, I've never heard of this Lukas guy."

Matt dug his fingers deeper into the man's jacket, pushing him harder against the wall. "It wasn't a question. People have told me about you, Graham. You're a junkie working small jobs for Lukas to get cash." Matt brought him off the wall for a second before slamming him on the brick again. "You're just a lowlife trying to get a buck from selling kids. You sell kids because you have an inferiority problem, and you wanna make yourself seem more powerful by preying on the weak, is that it?"

"W-what? I-"

Matt turned him around and grabbed Graham's arm, twisting it while pinning his head to the wall. "You may try to feel taller and stronger, but I can easily snap you in half," Daredevil whispered in his ear, twisting Graham's arm harder.

"Please! _Jesus Christ_!" he yelled, gasping in the brick.

"He can't save you now," Daredevil growled, throwing Graham on the ground before bringing up his fist, ready to strike.

…

Matt sprinted to the building. It wasn't hard to miss. Smoke filled the air surrounding it and screams hurled through the streets. A blast of heat overcame Matt as he ran around the corner to face the building. Graham had given him the right address, but he was too late. It was on fire.

The ring was gone.

Sirens were approaching, and, thinking he was too late, Matt almost turned back before hearing a small scream coming from the building. The boy's heartbeat raced in fear.

 _There's still someone inside._

And with only his hoodie and mask, Matt raced into the flames.

Kicking down the back door, Matt pulled his mask down to cover his nose and mouth. Only smoke filled the hallway as he made his way up the stairs. The cries began to become louder and louder. As he arrived at the second level, Matt was greeted by a hall of growing flames and throbbing heat. The boy was on the other side.

Matt hesitated for a moment. Letting go of his mask, he zipped his hoodie all the way up. Coughing into his sleeve, Matt counted down to three.

One.

Two.

 _Three._

Sprinting through the fire, he ignored the stings of flames licking past him and burning through his jacket. Bursting through the door, Matt heard a scream from the boy who was curled in the corner with a blanket wrapped around him. Making no time for pleasantries, Matt grabbed him. He ran past the door and through the closest exit. With no hands to hold up his mask, Matt smothered his nose and mouth onto the boy's blanket, hacking violently through the smoke. Running down the stairs, Matt's brain swayed and danced, unaware of the nail sticking out of a stair.

Running off the step, the front of his foot scraped along the crooked nail. A searing pain rushed through his leg and Matt stumbled down the stairs, turning his body before his back slammed into a wooden beam. The withering beam cracked and the ceiling began to cave down. Limping forward and out of breath, Matt gasped in the smoke as he dodged falling debris and fire. Hunched over to protect the boy, Matt's back burned from the flames engulfing him as the ceiling fell. His adrenaline pumping, Matt ran the remaining few feet before bursting from the building.

Matt stumbled out a few more steps before collapsing on his knees, the boy still in his arms. Setting down the boy, Matt fell to the ground, unaware of the dozen bystanders videotaping the whole thing. He laid sprawled on the ground as the building caved in.

Matt's head rang from exhaustion, the chatter of the surrounding people dampened from his ears. Sirens approached the fire, shocking Matt awake. He heard the small patter of feet as the boy ran into the crowd and away from the building. Matt began to stand, his legs shaking as he fumbled his smoke covered mask on his face before limping away from the scene.

…

"You good Matt?" Karen asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"Yeah, why?" Matt replied hoarsely, taking another sip of his water.

"I think you're losing your voice."

"I'm getting old."

Karen smiled. Matt didn't realize how much he really needed that smile.

"Anyways, I was gonna ask you…" Karen picked up a newspaper lying on the counter. "Did you know there was a fire in West End last night?"

Matt took another sip.

"Apparently it was the new HQ of the ring Daredevil tried to take down a month or two ago."

"Really?" Matt said, attempting to feign curiosity.

"Yeah…" She scanned the news again. "There was one fatality. A little girl."

Matt choked on the water, spitting out water onto the floor. "Sorry," he choked out. "Went down the wrong pipe." He coughed loudly, willing the water out of his lungs. "A little girl?" he finally says.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "Firefighter's weren't able to reach her in time."

Matt nodded numbly, taking another sip of water.

…

Finally arriving home, Matt took off his jacket and tie, turned on the radio on the kitchen counter.

" _-and there was a possible sighting of the Devil of Hell's Kitchen."_ Matt cocked his head.

" _Authorities report that the vigilante hasn't been seen in Hell's Kitchen for almost two months, and many assumed he was dead. However, police in the West End have been receiving an increased amount of beaten criminals. Authorities will not say whether they suspect it to be the vigilante's work._

" _The alleged Devil of Hell's Kitchen was seen carrying out a fourteen-year-old boy from the fire. Due to confidential and safety measures, his name will not be disclosed. Authorities believe that the boy was left behind in the fire because his age didn't match the clientele standards. Once the vigilante and the boy exited the fire, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen collapsed on the ground before running through an alley. The boy is in the hospital and is expected to make a full recovery._

" _The fatality, Amanda Schuler, has been missing from the foster care system since she was seven years old. She was found on the fifth floor of the building when firefighters arrived, but attempts to revive her were unsuccessful. Some bystanders claim that the vigilante is at fault, saying that while he was in the building the roof collapsed, possibly at the fault of the vigilante's attempt to intervene. However, many others-"_

Matt slammed his fist on the radio. Calmingly grabbing a bottle from the fridge, he shuffled to the couch. He took large gulps of the beer at a time.

 _I didn't hear them. Again. I killed that girl._

He took thirsty gulps, willing his dry throat to be quenched. Before he knew it, the bottle was empty.

Matt slammed it on the wall, the crash echoing through the empty room.

 _I killed her._

 _Lord, when did this go so wrong._

 **(A/N): This didn't go as expected. Hope you enjoyed.**


End file.
